The Firemage's Vengeance

by Garrett Robinson

  “That is the best wine I have ever tasted,” she said.

  Halab’s smile grew. “We keep fine vintages on hand. Now, please continue.”

  “Well—and now, understand, I only glimpsed them for a moment—I saw Cyrus. Cyrus of the family—well, your kin. He was the Dean before the new one, that man Xain with the dark eyes.”

  The room went quiet. Halab looked from Nella’s face over to Mako. The bodyguard’s expression betrayed nothing.

  Nella felt the tension in the room, clearly, for her next sip of wine was timid. “That … that is who Ebon went after. Not some palace woman. He went after Cyrus. What happened to them both after that, I do not know.”

  Halab had not taken her gaze from Mako. “Does this mean what it sounds like it means?”

  Mako shrugged. “Mayhap. Cyrus is dead; that much we know. If he were not, I would have found him. Ebon might have killed him.”

  Pursing her lips, Halab stared into her cup. She took another sip. Beside her, Nella’s eyes had gone saucer-wide. She drank a heavy gulp of her own cup.

  “Halab.” Mako’s tone had become worried, reluctant. “This throws everything into disarray. Cyrus should have died in the fighting, so that others would think he perished heroically upon the Seat. The fact that everyone thinks he fled has been a serious blow to our standing, and now, to learn that Ebon might have killed him …”

  She flung her glass goblet into the fireplace. The glass smashed, and the wine hissed in the flames. “Do not lecture me about what this means,” she snapped.

  “Of course,” said Mako, bowing his head.

  “How could this happen?” she shouted, letting the fury show in her voice. It was rare that she let it out, for she had learned long ago that rarity gave it strength. “How could we not have learned this already? It is your job to know such things.”

  “I learn what I learn in just this way,” said Mako quietly. “From the right questions put to the right people. I could not have known that I should have asked this exact girl this exact question. Meaning no disrespect, of course.” He inclined his head towards Nella.

  Nella still sat frozen in her seat, looking afraid to move. At Mako’s words, she shook her head quickly.

  “If Cyrus knew of our involvement with the Shades …” said Halab.

  “He did not,” said Mako at once.

  “Pardon me if I do not put complete faith in your word just now,” spat Halab. “What if he did, Mako? What if he told Ebon?”

  Another long moment of silence passed. Mako sighed. “I can … I can remove the danger of this situation.”

  Halab glared at him sharply. “We have already had to kill one of Shay’s sons. We will not kill the other. We will not. Do you understand me? Ebon may yet be molded. And I love him, Mako. He is not Matami. Am I completely understood?”

  Mako bowed again. “Of course, Halab.”

  Now Nella’s face was covered in sweat, though she still feared to move. It was as though she thought that, if she only remained still, they would forget she was there. But as the silence now stretched for longer than ever before, she at last mustered a small, squeaking voice. “Should I remove myself?”

  Halab sighed, and put her hand over the girl’s. “Child, no one must know about what we have spoken of here. You understand that.”

  Nella’s eyes filled with tears. “Of course I understand that. I will never breathe a word of it.”

  Slowly, sadly, Halab shook her head. “We both know that that is not what I meant.”

  Mako drew his dagger across the girl’s throat. Halab withdrew her hand before the blood could splash upon her fingers.